


Dearest

by quartzguts



Series: Sincerely, [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Manipulation, Love Letters, M/M, Secret Relationship, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, fluffy and fucked up, talk of soulmates but not actually soulmate au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-12 23:15:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21234191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartzguts/pseuds/quartzguts
Summary: Noct receives a love letter from an anonymous sender. Then another. And another.Maybe it's boredom, maybe it's the need to rebel, maybe it's just because he's lonely and the sender is well spoken and oddly romantic. Whatever the reason, he starts sending replies, and it gets just a little out of hand.





	1. Illicit

**Author's Note:**

> *slam dunks this into ao3's text box* IT'S FINISHED, BABY
> 
> god there are so many things wrong with this but i do not have the energy to keep looking at it. just. take it.
> 
> lol have fun with this, i definitely did

The first letter comes three months before Noct's nineteenth birthday.

He's bored, as he has been since graduating high school a week ago. He has nothing to do with most of his time now that classes and homework aren't taking it up. He doesn't have any council meetings or royal events to attend, either. His dad told Ignis to go easy on him for the next few months, to give him a chance to unwind. One last summer vacation. Noct hates it, if only because he wants something to _ do_.

So when the letter is slipped under the front door of his apartment, he grabs it immediately. He also opens the door and checks the hallway, but no one's there.

The letter has a slight scent to it as Noct settles at the kitchen table and opens it. Cologne. It's sweet but not overpowering. He immediately knows it's a love letter.

It's not the first one he's received. As the prince, he got a lot of letters from hopeful girls and boys who were interested in the only scion of Lucis. After the novelty wore off he started rejecting them outright. None of them ever wanted _ him _ \- they wanted the prince, and _ Noct _ was never able to live up to their expectations. Even if he could, he technically wasn't allowed to go out with them anyway. He had to remain unattached just in case his dad and the council decided to arrange a marriage for him.

He can't press this letter back into his admirer's hands, though, so he might as well open it. The handwriting is curly and written in silky black ink. It takes Noct a minute to actually read the damn thing, since the script is so flamboyantly obnoxious.

_ My dearest Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum, _

_ I fear I have little words to describe my excitement at being able to write this letter at last. I have waited many years for you to be born, my dear: long, aching years full of waiting and wanting. It may be bold of me to say, but I believe we are soulmates. The Astrals above made me for you, and you for me. You may believe my words to be dishonest, but I promise that you will understand in time. _

_ For now, I must restrict my affections to this short note, as I fear I may scare you if I continue further. If nothing else, believe this: the last thing I wish for is to frighten or harm you. _

_ Until we meet at last. _

Noct finds his cheeks heating as he finishes reading. This definitely isn’t from one of his former classmates. The script and diction is far too fancy. He rereads the letter again and again, feeling his heart skip a beat every other word. He knows that the words _ should _ scare him; Ignis and Gladio have gone over the stalker protocol with him at least a hundred times each before. He’s never had one (at least, not one he’s heard about) but it’s always a risk for royalty. He has no idea who wrote this letter, but the sender is clearly serious about their affections, or at least thinks they are. To the point that it sounds delusional. Even Noct can see that.

But it’s… sweet. And, being honest, Noct has been more than just bored this past week. He’s been lonely.

Prompto is busy with work almost every day now, and Ignis has only come by twice since he no longer has to iron Noct’s school uniform and force him to do homework. Gladio is busy with his Crownsguard training - the war beyond the wall is intensifying, and Insomnia’s finest must always be ready for battle. Noct has spent most of his time alone in his apartment, waiting for his friends to find a spare moment to text him back.

An uncomfortable thought comes to mind: does his admirer know how alone he is? Is that why they chose to send this letter now?

He narrows his eyes, scrutinizing the words. The second sentence is a little more alarming now that he’s actually paying attention. It implies that the sender is much, much older than him, which is… weird, and potentially very gross. Noct struggles for a long moment, trying to decide if he should give the letter to Ignis and let him deal with it.

He’s still sitting there, almost thirty minutes later, when the doorknob jiggles. Noct folds the letter hastily and shoves it into his back pocket.

A second later, the door opens, and the devil walks in. Ignis has a suit hanging over his arm, deep black and covered in plastic from the dry cleaners.

“Hi, Ignis!” Noct says, hoping the nervous crack in his voice wasn’t as loud as it sounded. “What’s up?”

Ignis regards him oddly. “Your suit for this weekend’s charity event was ready a day early. I thought I’d deliver it now, rather than wait 'til tomorrow.” He readjusts his glasses and fixes Noct with a suspicious stare. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Noct says quickly. He still hasn’t decided whether to hand over the letter, and he doesn’t want Ignis snatching it and taking the choice away from him. “I’m just bored. I was thinking about trying to cook dinner.”

Panic overtakes Ignis’s normally calm expression and Noct knows he’s succeeded in distracting him. “That won’t be necessary, Highness,” he says, laying the suit out over the kitchen table. “Don’t just toss it on the floor, please. I’ll get started on dinner right away.”

Noct laughs and swings the suit over his shoulder. “Honestly, Iggy, I only set the kitchen on fire _ once_.” He laughs again at the irritated twitch in Ignis’s eye and takes off.

Once he’s alone in his bedroom and the suit is hanging up in his closet, he takes out the letter. The cologne is still sticking to the paper, slightly diluted from Noct’s pants pocket. As he reads it again, he realizes something he overlooked before. His apartment building has top notch security; no random stalker would’ve been able to sneak past the guards to slip the letter under his door. That means that the sender is someone who either has the clearance to show up at his door whenever they want, or the skills to sneak past the Crownsguard.

So… maybe they’re a Guard, themselves? Or one of the Kingsglaive? It couldn’t be Prompto, Gladio, or Ignis. The grand speech is way too out of character for them. And Noct is pretty sure none of friends like him _ that _ way.

But whether his admirer is a Guard or a Glaive, it’s not like they're a random stranger. In fact, they’re probably someone Noct has already met. He isn’t sure if the thought _ should _ make him more comfortable, but it _ does_. If nothing else, it means that the sender might actually have sent the letter to _ him_, and not whatever over romanticized image they have of the crown prince.

They might want to be around him for some reason other than his title, which has only happened once before, when Prompto started hanging around him in their first year of high school. Even Gladio and Ignis only started spending time with him because it was their job.

He reads the second to last line again: _the last thing I wish for is to frighten or harm you. _ He shivers.

“Okay,” he murmurs, “whoever you are. I’ll believe you for now.”

He slips the letter into his school backpack, which he’s repurposed into a container for all his personal junk he doesn’t want Ignis touching. After a moment, he opens an old school notebook and slips the letter inside, so it isn’t visible when he just looks into the bag. Then he zips it shut.

His heart is pounding as he goes out to see what Ignis is making. Keeping a secret from his retainer is surprisingly thrilling.

As they eat dinner, a rare steak adorned with mushrooms that he stubbornly picks off, he reaffirms his choice. It’s only one letter, after all. If he gets more, then he’ll just have another chance to change his mind.

What’s the worst that could happen?

\---

He _ does _get a second letter. It’s not that he’s surprised, since the first sort of implied that his admirer was going to send more, but he still isn’t expecting the envelope to come fluttering in from under the door while he’s messing around on his phone in the living room.

He jumps off the couch and scrambles for the door. By the time he opens it, the hallway is empty. He pouts, unexpectedly disappointed, and picks the letter up off the floor.

It smells of the same cologne the first one did. The black ink and fancy script is the same, too. Noct takes this one into his bedroom to read, just in case Ignis decides to show up out of nowhere again.

The letter’s opening is less formal this time. Noct’s heart thuds.

_ My dearest Noctis, _

_ Can you understand how happy you make me, I wonder? I must admit, I thoroughly expected to hear of an investigation of some sort after delivering my last letter. No such response has been made, however. I can only surmise that you have chosen to accept my affections as genuine, and not the ramblings of some mad man. _

_ I am perhaps more surprised than happy, though. I find myself asking, did you even read my letter? Or was it merely tossed away, presumed to be junk mail or somesuch? Please, my dear, I cannot bear the uncertainty. I require some sort of message from you, to know that you really are reading these passions of mine, and accepting them. _

_ There’s no need for you to try to write back. Instead, I merely ask that you tie a piece of red cloth to the balcony of your apartment. If I see it before the sun sets today, I shall presume I have your leave to continue sending these letters. _

_ If not, you will wound me, but I suppose I must acquiesce to your desires. I love you, after all. _

Noct’s breath hitches as he reads the last line. _ I love you. I love you_. It’s not like he’s never heard those words aimed towards him, but, well. The life of a prince is a solitary one by necessity. He’s never experienced romantic love before, although he’s thought about it often.

And now, this anonymous sender is professing their love. For him.

He scrutinizes the letter further. The use of the term “mad _ man_” would imply that the sender is male, but it’s entirely possible they’re just using the word generically. Their professed willingness to stop sending him letters if he rejects them is good, though, right? It shows that they’re not one of those crazy stalkers in the true crime tv shows he watches late at night. They’re giving him a chance to set boundaries, right now. They’re giving him a chance to stop this.

Does he want to?

It’s possible that this is a front, and they’ll get violent if Noct rejects them, but he has no way to test that. If he doesn’t do as the sender asks and he never gets another letter, he’ll have no way of finding out who they are. He could turn the letters in to Ignis or Cor, but that would just result in an official investigation, and probably end with charges pressed against his admirer, whether he wants that or not.

Either way, if he tells anyone about it, he’ll lose all control over the situation. Control which his admirer has already given him.

Does he want to stop the letters?

He rubs his thumb over the last sentence. _ I love you_.

He takes a red winter scarf from his dresser and ties it around the balcony railing.

\---

The third letter comes several days later. He’s just come back from training with Gladio, and he’s tired and frustrated with his lack of progress these past few weeks. Gladio had told him these kinds of hang ups were normal, and had offered to help him wind down after their training session with take out and video games.

When he sees the white envelope on the floor, he’s very, very thankful he'd said no.

He picks the letter up, locks the door quickly, and runs to his room. He jumps on his bed, not caring about the sweat drenching his skin and clothes, and opens the envelope. He bites his lip in anticipation. Then, realizing that he’s acting like a teenage girl in a bad romantic comedy, he forces himself to calm down and sit up straight before he reads the letter. It’s the longest one yet.

_ My dearest Noctis, _

_ When I saw your scarf on the balcony several days ago, I could scarcely control myself. To receive a positive response, and so quickly, was beyond my wildest imaginings. I had to stop myself from running to your door then and there, to introduce myself properly and, as the youth say these days, “ask you out.” _

_ For now, I am afraid that is not possible. I fear such a thing would risk this whole endeavour being found out by the authorities. Perhaps that has already happened, though? It may be that you turned the first two letters into the Crownsguard already, and this is simply a ploy to receive more letters to assist in apprehending me. _

_ I think not. I did not trouble myself with removing DNA traces from my first letter. It would be perfectly simple to find me using that alone. Beyond that, I do not believe you are the type to take part in such deception. You strike me as a straightforward man. _

_ I feel now that we have established a mutual understanding of sorts, it is appropriate for me to provide some introduction of myself. I realize I have used certain words that may have tipped you off to my age; I turned thirty-three last April. I have been told I am handsome, but my looks are nowhere near the level of your beauty. I am a native born of Lucis, but I lived in Niflheim (against my will, I must add) for some time. I have only recently returned to Lucis, and now reside in Insomnia. _

_ I do hope you weren't expecting a prince or king to sweep you off your feet - I am a simple man of no consequence. _

_ I appreciate that your position as a public figure has given me access to more information about your person than you are likely comfortable with. I also understand that the persona you wear in public (such as the face you put on at that charity gala this past weekend. I must admit you looked quite lovely in that jet black suit of yours. I would very much like to see you wearing it again; the pants emphasized your legs so nicely.) is not your true self. I would like to meet that true self someday soon. _

_ I am currently working on a way to allow us to exchange letters, so that I might receive a response from you. If you do not wish that and merely want to continue hearing my declarations of love, that is all well and fine with me. I am content to simply sing your praise if that is your desire. _

_ If you do wish to make this correspondence mutual, tie the scarf again to your balcony, and I shall hasten my efforts. _

Noct is breathing hard for some reason, and shaking ever so slightly. This is - this is a lot to process. Obviously Noct already knew his admirer was serious, so the clear romantic intent isn’t particularly shocking. But the careful consideration of Noct’s feelings, the implication that this person understands and empathizes with him, is unexpected. Noct decides not to think about that too deeply and instead focuses on what he now knows about his admirer.

He’s a man, which doesn’t bother Noct in the slightest. He’s also thirty-three. That’s fifteen years older than Noct, but still young. At least he isn’t a gross old man - assuming he’s being honest, Noct’s rationality chimes in.

But thirty-three… isn’t bad. Quite the opposite. Maybe it's because he was forced to endure four years of his classmates giggling at him whenever he walked by in high school, but he never liked the idea of dating someone close to his age. He might've been okay with Prompto, but regardless of how close they are they’re still both sort of immature. Someone like Ignis, who was older and more mature than him, appealed to him more. He liked the idea of someone who could take care of him - someone who wouldn’t mind how childish he could be.

Thirty-three…

It’s a good number, Noct decides.

He reads over the last two paragraphs again. This letter is making his cheeks heat up more intensely than the last two had. The man’s feelings had been obvious since the first letter, but this is the first time he’s been so… so _ blatant_. Talking about Noct’s beauty, his _ legs _. It’s exhilarating to read. It really shouldn’t be, but it is.

And he used to live in Niflheim, _ against his will_, despite being Lucian. He was probably a prisoner of war, then, which implies he is (or was) a soldier. He makes no reference to being a Guard or Glaive, though. That would mean he’s had to sneak past security to deliver these letters, which means he’s good. Really good. He must have used those skills to escape from Niflheim and make it all the way back to Insomnia.

Noct feels empathy for the man start to ebb into his chest. He's heard things about the way POWs are treated in Niflheim. Maybe he’s still suffering from the abuse, and has latched onto the crown prince as a symbol of his homeland? But he says he wants to meet the real Noct, not his image or title.

Noct sighs and chews the inside of his cheek. If the man really is a common soldier recently returned to Insomnia, then he was wrong about him being someone he already knows. That means he _ is _ a stranger, and his feelings are just as delusional as the letters sound. He should turn them into Ignis now, or take them directly to Cor. He’ll get scolded for waiting over a week to report them, and he’ll likely be accompanied by guards wherever he goes until they catch the guy, but it’s not too late.

He glances down at the letter. His eyes catch on one sentence in particular: _ If you do not wish that and merely want to continue hearing my declarations of love…. _ Does he want to keep hearing them?

He knows what his answer should be. He knows it should be a firm, sound, disgusted _ no. _

Before he can think anymore and hurt his brain, he throws the letter down on the bed, rips the red scarf out of his dresser, and ties it around his balcony once more. He stands there, looking out over Insomnia, the skyscrapers and street lights twinkling against the early evening sky. He wonders if his admirer is out there somewhere, looking up at him. Wonders if he’s happy. If Noct really has the power to make him weak with joy just by agreeing to talk with him.

A weight settles in his gut, like he’s doing something wrong. And he is, really. This is beyond stupid. His admirer is a delusional stalker, who thinks that they're soulmates and admires his legs when he’s wearing his formal suits. He shouldn’t be opening this door.

But at the same time he remembers the thrill from when he decided to hide the first letter. It was strong and pure, a clear pillar amidst the turmoil brewing inside him.

It had taken ages for him to get approval to move out of the Citadel, to get room to breathe away from the suffocating atmosphere of the palace, and now, after his nineteenth birthday, he'll have to go back. The pressure of the crown seems like it's looming over him now more than ever. And with nothing to distract him, it's all he can think about: the Citadel, the crown, and his father slowly marching towards his own grave. He needs all the distractions he can get. He needs that pillar.

As he thinks of the letters stashed away in his room, the thrill returns. The weight dissipates, as if burned away by his stomach acid.

If it gets out of hand, he’ll just tell someone, he reasons. For now, he has the Armiger to protect him if he needs it. There’s no harm in this.

He stays on the balcony until sunset, unwraps the scarf from the railing, and goes back inside. He neatly tucks the third letter away with the first two. He resists the urge to press them to his nose and smell his admirer’s cologne.

\---

The fourth letter comes on a rainy day, as a great storm rolls over Insomnia. The wall may keep out Niflheim’s armies, but it doesn’t stop the rain that falls hard and fast from the heavens above. Noct actually warps to the door to open it as quickly as possible, but as with the first and second time, the hallway is empty.

He takes the letter into his room and opens it. His hands shake with anticipation. His admirer has gone five days without writing to him, and he was starting to get impatient. He doesn’t want to let himself imagine what the delay might mean.

There are two things inside the envelope: the new letter, and a smaller, empty envelope. The letter starts out the same way as the last one.

_ My dearest Noctis, _

_ I believe I have found a way. It must be quite random, I’m afraid, in order to keep the Crownsguard or police from finding out. _

_ While I can simply slip my letters under your door, it is not an option for you to leave yours in the hallway, lest someone notice. And I find myself unwilling to ask for you to venture into Insomnia’s underbelly (which can be quite unsafe at times) to give me your responses. I also think it best that we not meet face to face for the time being. You shall understand my reasons for this later. _

_ In each letter I send you from now on, I shall leave a location and time frame for your reply. If you are unwilling or unable to send a response, do not fret, as I will supply a new location and time in my next letter. _

_ Simply leave your response where I ask within the hour I specify, and I shall pick it up. Please do not sign your letters; it would be positively scandalous if a stranger were to recover it and find the crown prince sending intimate letters to someone illicitly. _

_ Founder’s Park, in the third bat-house from the left in the upper right section of the park, which faces the Citadel. Three thirty to four thirty pm today, May 12th. _

_ I await your reply. _

Noct traces the word _ illicitly _ with his finger. That is what they’re doing, isn’t it? Something illicit. Not permitted. Not necessarily illegal, but definitely something that is one hundred percent not allowed.

He looks at the clock. It’s three. He grabs one of his school notebooks and rips a piece of blank notebook paper out of it. Then he grabs a pen and starts to write.

_ Dear creepy secret admirer, _

_ Before this goes any further, I need some answers from you. If you don’t completely answer all of my questions, I’m going to tell the Crownsguard about these. Trust me, you don’t want that. Also don’t lie. _

Noct stares hard at the few lines he’s written. He adds a _ please _ after his last sentence.

_ First, who are you? If you don’t want to tell me your full name, whatever. But I at least need to know your first name. Second, why do you like me? _

Noct can’t force himself to write love. He hopes he doesn’t sound like a middle schooler asking his friends who they like-like.

_ Third, how are you getting past the guards? You have to have some sort of specialized skill set. I’m assuming you’re a soldier, or a spy. _

Suddenly Noct realizes that this man _ could _ be a spy - for Niflheim. His mission could be to get closer to Noct and learn Lucis’s state secrets. If that’s the case, though, asking his admirer directly would only get him lies as an answer. He’ll just have to be careful about this. For now, the last question he wants to ask is -

_ Fourth, why can’t we meet face to face? You realize that’s super suspicious, right? _

He almost signs it, then remembers the instructions. The man has a good point - if someone else found the letter, it would be all over the tabloids the next day. Noct deals with sleazy reporters speculating about the sex life of the _ Ice Prince _ enough as it is.

He folds the letter into the smaller envelope and seals it with his saliva. Afterwards he feels sort of gross, in case the man is planning to, like, lick the seal or something, but whatever. He slips the letter into a small messenger bag along with his apartment keys and an umbrella and heads out.

He tells the guards on duty that he’s going on a walk, and will be back by five. They smile and tell him to have fun. He’s allowed to go wherever he wants in the city, now that he’s an adult and has proven in training that he can defend himself. He doesn’t even think he’s being followed around by Kingsglaive anymore, like he was in middle school. Hopefully. If he is and one of them takes the letter he’ll be in deep shit.

He throws a quick prayer to the Astrals that, if that happens, either Nyx or Crowe is the one to find it. They’re sort of friends; he thinks they’d probably just return it to him without reading it, and tell him to text his secret boyfriend like a normal person.

Secret boyfriend. Ha.

Belatedly Noct wishes he’d also asked why they _ couldn’t _ text each other, but he doesn’t like the idea of asking for his admirer/stalker/illicit pen pal’s number.

Founder’s Park is almost empty thanks to the earlier storm, which has slowed to a drizzle. The skies are an angry grey, and there’s a strong wind blowing. The place his admirer picked is away from the sidewalk and surrounded by trees. There’s no one around. Noct slips the letter into the third bat-house’s open door and murmurs an apology to the little squeaks from the nesting animals inside.

He warps away to another dark part of the park, then strolls out like he’d never been near the bat-houses at all. He sits on a bench, which is wet, but his pants are black anyway so it’s not like it’ll show, and waits. When the clock passes four thirty, he pouts. Obviously the man isn’t going to pick up the letter while he’s here.

Fine. He’ll just hide next time.

He keeps his hands in his pockets as he walks home to hide the way they’re shaking. Excitement laces his nerves. He feels rebellious, in the ways he wanted to be when he was younger but couldn’t.

He stops by a food cart and buys a hot dog and a bag of chips. The cart owner thanks _ His Highness _for his patronage. He smiles at the guards when he gets back home.

As he stands in the middle of his apartment, the lights turned off, the storm picking up again outside, Noct curses himself.

He should’ve scented his reply with his cologne.

\---

It’s been three days since he sent his reply. Noct is starting to get nervous. He went back to Founder’s Park yesterday to check the bat-house, but his letter was gone. Someone had picked it up. He hopes it was his admirer, if only so he can get some answers to his questions. If it wasn’t, then whatever. The man said he was going to write again even if he didn’t get a reply from Noct. Which seemed rather rude, to be honest, but it was a necessity. The guy couldn’t know if Noct had obligations to fulfill at the times he offered, after all.

Although Noct won’t have any obligations until September. King’s orders.

Today isn’t as boring as usual, since Prompto is here. He’d called earlier and very excitedly told Noct that his boss had closed the shop for today. His daughter had announced her engagement, apparently. It was all very happy and unexpected. Noct told Prompto to give the girl his congratulations, and Prompto had promised to pass on the message.

Now they’re sitting in front of the TV on the floor, with take out boxes spread out on the coffee table. They’ve set aside their game for the time being to avoid dirtying the controllers with grease.

Prompto slurps down a forkful of noodles. “Man, can you imagine what getting married must be like?”

“Sure can’t,” Noct replies. This isn’t a topic he usually talks about with Prompto, mostly because neither of them ever bring it up. Noct has a good reason for not doing so, and he hopes Prompto realizes it before he keeps talking.

No cigar. “I mean, I don’t really think about it much, but I guess I’d really like to get married one day. How about you?”

“Prom -”

“Oh!” Prompto blushes, like he always does when he embarasses himself. “Oh, right, sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s fine,” Noct says, and it is. He’s been a prince his whole life, after all. “I’ll get married whenever Dad and the council decide it’s about time.”

Prompto frowns. “But you don’t get to pick who. Man, I’m sorry. That must suck.”

Noct shrugs. “It’s alright.”

Prompto’s face suddenly breaks out into a grin. He nudges Noct with his elbow. “But hey, imagine this - what if you get to marry Lady Lunafreya?”

“_Luna_?” Noct blushes and sputters from the unexpectedness of the question, but honestly, it’s not like he’s never considered the possibility before. “Come on, quit messing around.”

“Why not? You’re a prince, she’s a princess! It’d be a classic fairytale romance.” Prompto laughs.

Noct reaches behind them and pulls one of the couch cushions down on Prompto’s head. “Shut it. Besides, maybe _ you’ll _be the one marrying Luna.”

Now it’s Prompto’s turn to blush and sputter. Noct laughs hard, and when he brings his water bottle up to his lips he notices it’s almost empty. He gets up to go get another one from the fridge as Prompto protests his crush on the Oracle.

He turns the corner into the kitchen and immediately sees the letter.

Shit. Shit shit shit. _ Shit_.

If Prompto had come into the kitchen earlier… if he came in now…

Noct snatches the letter off the floor and sprints to his room as quietly as possible. He stuffs the letter under his bed’s comforter, then runs back to the kitchen and grabs a water from the fridge. He takes a long drink, trying to will his heart to stop beating so quickly.

Damn. His admirer has the worst timing. Although Noct supposes it was just good luck he’d never dropped a letter off while he had guests before.

Noct goes back to Prompto, who has nothing else to say about marriage or Noct’s other princely duties. Instead, they finish dinner, play through a few more online missions, and then Prompto leaves. He has work tomorrow, he explains sheepishly.

Noct assures him it’s fine. For the first time since meeting Prompto, he has to pretend that he’s upset he can’t stay over. For the first time, he’s impatient for Prompto to leave. He doesn’t think Prompto notices, but the guilt eats away at him anyway.

Just to remind himself that Prompto, his best friend, means more to him than some weird, creepy probably-stalker, he refuses to go back to his bedroom for the better part of an hour. He even cleans up the living room; Iggy will be proud of him when he drops by tomorrow. If he knew the _ reason _for Noct’s sudden compulsive cleaning, the reason for the anxiety and excitement curling in his belly, he’d probably be less than thrilled. Or maybe just furious.

When Noct finally makes his way back to his room, it’s dark outside. His breath catches when he pulls the letter out. He opens the envelope and removes both the smaller envelope meant for his reply and the new letter. Cologne decorates the paper as always.

_ My dearest Noctis, _

Noct has to look away. In this letter will either be some of the answers he’s looking for, or an attempt at sidestepping his questions. In which case he’ll have to make good on his threat and get the Crownsguard involved. He’ll have to give up this tiny bit of his life that he has control over, this tiny thing that makes him feel good and distracts him from his long, boring days alone.

He’ll have to give up this chance at something like romance, one of the many aspects of ordinary life his title has never allowed him.

There are - it feels like there are butterflies in his stomach. Noct laughs harshly. This isn’t how he wanted to find out the accuracy of that expression.

He brings his eyes back to the letter.

_ My dearest Noctis, _

_ You really ought to work on that handwriting of yours, darling. I fear for your poor future secretary! A king must have excellent script, you know. _

Noct scoffs. Who does this guy think he is, Ignis? But… Ignis’s critiques of his handwriting are always genuine. This guy seems more like he’s joking, or maybe that’s just Noct’s wishful thinking.

The letter continues.

_ Of course, I am happy to answer any and all questions you put to me. I shall tackle them in order: _

_ Firstly, my name is Ardyn. Secondly, I love you for a simple reason, which I have already communicated to you; I believe we are soulmates. There is little I can do to explain this without revealing information I do think would be better kept under wraps, at least for now. _

_ Thirdly, sneaking past the Crownsguard is quite easy for me. Your assumptions are, however, a tad misguided. I am a healer, not a soldier. I merely picked up several useful skills while in Niflheim. I am particularly practiced in the art of sneaking in and out of heavily guarded facilities, and making full use of the shadows, wherever they may lie. _

_ And fourthly, I want nothing more than to meet you face to face and press my lips to yours. Unfortunately, there are certain aspects of my identity that I fear you may not understand, mostly related to the bond I am confident we share. _

_ Search your heart, my dear. You know who I am. _

_ The intersection of Amicitia Ave and North St, the out of order yellow newspaper box. Eight to nine am, tomorrow, May 16th. _

Noct holds the paper as close as he can while still being able to read it. This is technically what he asked for. He has the man’s name now: Ardyn. It’s a nice name, he supposes. It’s not terribly common in Lucis, but not rare, either. He also has, in the form of a second declaration of their supposed soul bond, proof that this man is delusional and he should take these letters straight to the Crownsguard.

But how would he justify answering the man? He could say that he wanted to get more information for the investigation, but Ignis isn’t that stupid. He knows full well that one of Noct’s favorite pastimes is watching crime dramas. He knows that Noct knows it would have been best for the investigation to turn the letters in immediately, so they could be DNA analyzed before the evidence was contaminated. Noct shakes his head. He made his choice before, and that was then. This is now. It’s not too late to change his mind. He doesn’t have to be hasty with his decision.

Noct slouches over and tries to think, but his thoughts are muddled. He grabs the notebook on his dresser, the one he used to write his first reply, and flips it open to a clean page. He writes down everything he knows.

The man’s name is Ardyn. He’s thirty-three years old. He was born in Lucis, but lived in Niflheim until recently. He currently lives in Insomnia. He’s a healer, which is an odd word to use. Noct assumes he’s a field medic, and is just being weird for dramatic effect. He learned how to sneak past guards while in Niflheim. He thinks they’re soulmates.

And.

Noct runs his fingers over the fourth answer. _ I want nothing more than to meet you face to face and press my lips to yours. _

Noct has never been kissed before. Prompto once told him he was bummed out about it, because if _ Noct _ had never kissed anybody, how could he ever get a chance? Gladio had said something about it too, once. He’d asked casually if Noct had broken the no relationships rule yet, and then laughed and told him with his looks, he could have anyone he wanted.

And he could have, really. It’s not like he needed to be dating someone to kiss them. He could’ve gone up to any of the girls or guys who whispered to each other in the hallways whenever he walked by and just asked. All of them would have tripped over themselves trying to kiss the prince. It would’ve probably been fine, except -

_ “Hey, Prince Noctis is hot, right? I wonder if he’s any good…” _

_ “Are you kidding? Mister Ice Prince? I bet he’s a terrible kisser.” _

_ “Haha, you’re probably right.” _

He’d only overheard a few conversations like that, but they’d been enough.

His inexperience shouldn’t have been a problem. It was _ high school_. No one could expect a high schooler to be a master kisser already. But he was the prince, and that had always set the bar higher for him. In academics, in sports, and apparently in romance, too.

So, embarrassed and insecure, he figured it would be better to just be the Ice Prince instead of a person with feelings and desires.

And now he’s here, alone in his room, eighteen and unkissed, and a stranger named Ardyn with pretty handwriting and sweet smelling cologne is declaring his love for him and saying he wants to kiss him.

Would he care that Noct was inexperienced? He’s thirty-three. He probably contacted Noct expecting to be the more experienced one, but Noct isn’t sure.

He could ask.

Noct bites his lip, digs his fingers in his hair, glares at the letter, and finally gives up thinking with a growl.

“Fine,” he spits at nothing in particular. “Fine. The fuck.”

He rips another paper out of the notebook and scribbles his reply. Just to be petty, he makes sure his handwriting is worse than last time.

_ Dear Ardyn, _

_ Thanks for actually answering my questions. I wasn’t really expecting that from a creepy stalker. So you’re not too bad, I guess. _

_ I’m still not opposed to telling the Crownsguard, so don’t try any shit. _

_ I think you’re completely insane. Soulmates don’t exist. You don’t know me. _

_ Also what you said about kissing me, you wouldn’t be bothered if I’ve never kissed anyone before right? Because if so fuck you. _

He stares at the letter, strangely pissed. He’ll have to get up early to deliver this tomorrow. Earlier even than eight, because Ignis is coming over at eight thirty, and he’ll need to be home when that happens or he’ll be interrogated by his worrisome retainer. That means he’ll have to skip out on some sleep, which he desperately needs right now. Fucking Ardyn. He grabs some expensive cologne his dad had bought him for some royal event months ago and spritzs the letter with it. He glances over it as the cologne dries, and picks up the pen again.

_ Also call me Noct. _

It doesn’t matter. No one will probably believe the prince of Lucis knows the word fuck, anyway.


	2. Destiny

The next letter he receives begins with _ My dearest Noct_, which is an improvement. The next two months whirl by as Noct runs back and forth, delivering letters to parts of the city he’s never even been to, using Moogle Maps and asking passersby for directions to find Ardyn’s drop off locations. He still has yet to see the man; he never picks up the letters while Noct is there. One time he’d left and run back a few minutes later, only to find the letter gone already. It would be easier if he could ask the police to check the security cameras, but as it is he’s just relieved no one has questioned why he’s suddenly so interested in exploring the city. He can’t risk exposing - well, whatever this is.

It’s stupid. And a security risk. He can already imagine Ignis and Gladio’s disapproving looks, Prompto’s worried panic, and his dad’s quiet but crushing disappointment.

He can’t turn the letters in now, no matter what happens. And he doesn’t really want to.

Ardyn is a good pen pal, all things considered. He’s witty, often funny, and easily responds to Noct’s odd questions and requests. Noct demanded, a week into their regular correspondence, that Ardyn download King’s Knight and play with him. The subsequent revelation that Ardyn did, in fact, have a phone led Noct to ask if they could text each other. Ardyn politely declined, saying that despite the obvious advantages, he was quite attached to letter writing. Noct was, too; it was strangely romantic.

In any case, Ardyn was so utterly pathetic at the game it was hilarious; he kept asking dumb questions, like _ what’s hp_, and _ why does this game keep asking for my credit card information_.

Noct laughed and bought him a pack of in game currency to help buff out his build. Ardyn sent him a letter thanking him profusely, and again described his desire to kiss him.

Upon hearing of Noct’s inexperience, he’d been unexpectedly understanding. _ I can’t imagine the things you’ve missed out on because of your status, _ he’d lamented. _ I only wish I can rectify this horrid situation as quickly as possible, my dear_. Noct had read that line, then tentatively pressed his lips against the paper, hoping the ink would stain them.

This is good, he’s decided. He’s gotten smoother at lying to Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto. Sometimes a letter comes in while they’re at his apartment and he sweeps it into his back pocket, reveling in the knowledge that he won't get caught. Thrills run up and down his spine whenever he thinks of Ardyn. He’d thought it might feel like this, having an illicit relationship. The fact that his boyfriend is fifteen years older than him and still fundamentally a stranger just adds to the thrill.

Boyfriend.

He’s started referring to Ardyn as that, only privately. He never responds to any of Ardyn’s flirtations directly, but he puts playful teasing and friendly jabs into his own letters. They're not in a serious relationship, as far as he’s concerned. He hopes Ardyn isn’t upset that Noct is basically just using him for a thrill, and he says as much, while writing a letter at three am as it storms outside.

_ Worry not, darling, _ the reply says. _ My sole purpose in life is to give yours meaning_.

Noct squeezes the letter to his chest and jumps around his room like an overexcited puppy. This is _ fun_, more than he’s had since before he was injured. Maybe even since before the Crystal had chosen him. It sort of reminds him of how he used to feel with Prompto, while they were still in high school and they saw each other every day, except it’s more intense, more _ passionate_.

Noct doesn't blame Prompto for suddenly vanishing from his life. It wouldn't be fair; not everyone's dad can pay their rent for them. He knows that. But it doesn't make him feel better about it. Without Prompto to distract him, his anxiety builds with each day that passes. The clock slowly marches towards his birthday in August, after which he'll become the Prince of Lucis full time. He'll never be just Noct again. He'll be burdened with duty and war. Then, someday probably sooner rather than later, his father will die, Noct will take the throne, and he'll sacrifice his own life to the crystal.

Ardyn does what he can to alleviate his worries. He does his best to make Noct feel like Noct, and more often than not he succeeds.

He makes Noct feel weightless.

So when Ardyn asks if he’d like to meet up in person, Noct agrees quickly. He writes his reply, sprays it with cologne, and leaves it on his desk to deliver in the morning. He sprawls out on his bed and goes to sleep smiling.

\---

He wakes up to Ignis standing next to his bed, reading the letter with a frown on his face.

Noct’s heart drops low in his stomach. The butterflies he’s felt for the past two months die and make way for maggots.

“Uh -” he says intelligently.

“What is this?” Ignis asks. His eyes are narrowed behind his glasses, but he doesn’t look particularly angry. Just confused.

“It’s a letter,” Noct says, trying to regain his cool. “I’m writing a pen pal. Why are you in my room?”

“You didn’t wake up when I knocked, so I came in,” Ignis explains. “‘Ardyn’?”

“He’s a school friend,” Noct says quickly. He tries to look casual as he slides out of bed. He wants to snatch the letter out of Ignis’s hands, but that will only make his retainer more suspicious, so instead he fakes a yawn and hopes he doesn't look as nervous as he thinks he does.

“‘I really want to meet you, too’,” Ignis reads. “It sounds like you haven’t met this boy before. Are you _ sure _ he’s a school friend?”

Noct freezes. Shit. He’d forgotten exactly what he wrote last night. _ Fuck. _ “Um. We had this pen pal project, where we wrote to people from other schools, and -”

Apparently his brain has completely fried itself, because this is _ Ignis _ he’s talking to. Not his dad, who barely took notice of his academics, or Gladio, who didn’t ask much. _ Ignis. _“You had no such assignment. Noctis, who is this?”

Noct wilts under Ignis’s glare. He takes three deep breaths, which Ardyn told him would help with his crowd anxiety, squares his shoulders, and tries to fix his face with his Ice Prince expression. “He’s just a guy. He sent me a letter a few weeks ago, and I responded. You know, like normal people do.”

“You are not a normal person,” Ignis says. He scans over the letter again. “You cannot simply reply to fan mail from people you don’t know. This man could be dangerous.”

“He isn’t,” Noct says weakly.

Ignis sighs. “Perhaps not. I want to trust your judgement, but we still have to investigate him before you can meet with him.”

“You didn’t investigate Prompto!” Noct says.

“You met Prompto at school,” Ignis begins, then pauses. He coughs into his hand. “And a brief background check was conducted on him by the police. This is someone you’ve never even met in person, correct?”

“...yes,” Noct hisses.

“Then we have to at least run a basic background check,” Ignis says with his signature finality. “I’m sorry, Noct, but you are a prince, and sometimes that makes you a target. We just want to keep you safe.”

Noct nods and crosses his arms. He’s still panicking, trying to come up with a legitimate excuse that will make Ignis not ask the question he knows is coming. He can’t find one.

Ignis picks up the small envelope, turns it over, and frowns. “There’s no address.”

“...no.”

“Well, can you write it down for me?”

“No.”

Ignis fixes his glasses. “Noct, please don’t make this difficult. Write down his address.”

Noct takes in another deep breath, shuts his eyes, and says “I don’t know it.”

Ignis stares at him. His expression hardens as he begins to realize what that means. “How have you been speaking to him, then?”

“He leaves locations in his letters for me to drop off my replies,” Noct says. “It’s just, like, a game we play. It’s nothing.”

“I am going to ignore the obvious danger you have placed yourself in by going where a stranger asks you to at his whim,” Ignis says slowly. “I am also going to ignore the implications of this man not wanting his address to be known. What I cannot ignore right now is how he has been delivering his letters. Given what you just told me, I am assuming he doesn’t mark them with a return address?”

“...no,” Noct says.

“That is worrying,” Ignis continues, “as letters being sent to the crown prince with no return address would be immediately investigated. Then, do you also go to specific locations to pick up his replies?”

“No,” Noct says, gritting his teeth

“I didn’t think so, as you did not specify a location in this one. Noct, how has he been sending you letters?”

Noct flexes his hands and wishes it was several hours later in the afternoon, when he’d had his morning shower and coffee and wasn’t caught so off balance by Ignis’s protective fury.

“Noct. Answer my question.”

“He slips them under the door.”

Ignis makes a little choking sound. “The door to the building?”

“No. The one to my apartment.”

Ignis spends the next thirty minutes alternating between scolding him and calling Gladio and Cor, who calls Regis, who calls Ignis when Noct refuses to answer his phone. By the end of it, Noct feels thoroughly humiliated, there are guards outside the door to his apartment, and the Crownsguard are already preparing for a full scale investigation.

Noct wonders how he's going to apologize to Ardyn for all of this.

\---

The morning is waning. Noct has showered and dressed. Cor is due to arrive in thirty minutes to pick up all the letters Ardyn sent to Noct. He wants to hide some of them, as there are those that are more blatant than others, but Ignis refuses to let him. He makes Noct show him the stash of letters, and then sits at the kitchen table with them stacked firmly under his arms. He obtains permission from Cor and the King to read them and does so, his eyes growing wider and his composure breaking each time he comes across something inappropriate.

“‘Honestly, darling, I can scarcely risk to look at photographs of you in public anymore. How do you manage to look so tantalizing fully clothed?’” Ignis looks at him with a horrified expression. “Noct, what were you _ thinking_.”

“Come on, it’s not that bad,” Noct says, which is the wrong thing to say.

“_If _ this man is being honest about anything in these letters, he is a delusional man fifteen years your senior who believes the Six _ made you for him_. How is that not bad.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t bad,” Noct says, cringing at his own words as they leave his mouth. “Just that it wasn’t _ that _bad.”

Ignis groans. “Gladio will be here soon with Cor. We are going to escort you back to the Citadel. You are not to even _ attempt _ to contact this man until the investigation is over and he is apprehended. Do you understand?”

Noct growls. This is the third time he’s heard that same warning. “What has he done, exactly? It isn’t illegal to send someone love letters - or did the law change in the past twenty four hours?”

“Love letters.” Ignis places his face in his hands. When he withdraws them, he’s wearing his careful I-know-we’re-both-uncomfortable-but-I-have-to-say-this face. “Highness, I appreciate that your life has been more solitary than most, and therefore such… affections… may come across as genuine and may even be welcome. But this man is not sending you _ love letters_. He does not _ love _ you. He is acting in a way that is obsessive and dangerous. He -”

“Yeah, fine, whatever,” Noct snaps, hating Ignis right now because he’s right, because everything he’s saying is something that’s already occurred to Noct. He’s already gone through all of these possibilities on his own, and guess what? He’s decided, through all of it, that regardless of how misguided Ardyn is and regardless of whether his feelings are genuine, he’s made Noct feel happy and free and loved the past two months, and in this moment right now he doesn’t care about anything else.

Ignis seems to realize how upset Noct is and mercifully stops talking. Cor arrives and asks him a few questions, which Noct answers because they’re the same questions Ignis asked him an hour and a half ago. Gladio looks like he can't decide if he's concerned or pissed and throws a protective arm over his shoulder, which Noct knows better than to try and shrug off. He sits in the backseat of the car with Noct as Cor steps behind the wheel and Ignis sits up front. Noct’s love letters are in a briefcase resting on his lap.

“You alright?” Gladio asks.

“No,” Noct says, too tired to lie.

“It’s okay, Noct,” Gladio says. “I mean, this is the dumbest shit you’ve done in years, but it’ll be okay.”

Noct looks up at him. “So you’re not mad at me?”

“Oh, I'm definitely kicking your ass for this later, don't worry." Gladio punches his shoulder. “But I had time to calm down earlier. What's important now is keeping you safe. It’ll be fine, we'll find the guy and punch him out in no time.” He coughs into his hand. “And I _ do _ understand why you might want to, you know, let someone shower you with affection.”

Noct sighs. Gladio probably does understand. He’s an Amicitia, which means he’ll also have an arranged marriage somewhere down the line. But he’ll have some say in it. And he won’t have to marry someone he doesn't love while grieving for his father _ and _ bearing the weight of being king to a country which is just barely avoiding ruin as it is.

“Thanks,” he says anyway, and lets himself fall asleep.

\---

He dreams. Usually his dreams are a hazy mix of today’s memories and tomorrow’s anxieties, blurry and unrealistic, but this one is sharp. Clear. Noct looks around, confused. He’s in Founder’s Park, at the edge of the sidewalk facing the bat-houses where he left his first reply what feels like ages ago. His steps feel natural as he walks forward, with none of the heavy slowness of a dream-body.

He reaches in to the bat-house. There is no letter, but little rodent hands grab his finger. He pulls it out. The hands morph into talons, and there’s a raven perched on his finger. The bird is glossy black, with purple hues coloring its feathers. Noct runs a fingertip down its spine as it chirps at him.

“Oh, Noct,” a voice drawls from behind him. “What am I to do with you.”

He turns around. The raven flies away from him and lands on the man’s shoulder. His hair is silky and the color of red wine, his eyes honey gold and dripping. Noct’s mouth forms around the name before he can think about it.

“Ardyn,” he says.

“I was so looking forward to meeting you, my dear King of Light,” Ardyn laments. There’s an odd tone in his voice, mocking and cruel, something Noct had never heard in the letters. “Ah, well. I suppose that’s the end of that.”

“No,” Noct says. “I’ll come to you anyway. I swear.”

“Oh, do you now?” Ardyn’s mouth twists into a smirk. Black ink runs down his lips, onto his chin. The smell of his cologne fills the dream. “Well then, I await your arrival.”

The dream starts to shift and fade, and Noct knows he’s waking up. “Wait. You haven’t given me a place yet.”

Ardyn’s eyes shimmer. “The edge of the city, just before the Wall. Follow the shadows. You’ll find me.”

Noct wakes to Gladio shaking his arm. They’re at the Citadel. He starts planning his escape.

\---

Someone calls Prompto. His best friend quickly comes to the Citadel to keep Noct company. Noct knows his dad is worried, and thinks he might tell Prom something that can help them figure out why Noct has become so protective over a delusional stalker. Noct wont say a thing, though. Everything they need to know is in those letters, and besides that, he needs to think. There’s something _ more _to Ardyn, something dark.

He knows he should be thinking about how exactly Ardyn got into his dream, and why he cried black tears like motor oil - but that all seems unimportant in the wake of this new _ feeling. _ He knows instinctively that Ardyn is the most important person he’ll ever meet. Ardyn is his world, the star he orbits; Ardyn is his _ destiny. _ He knows this with a level of conviction he’s never been able to apply to anything before. He also knows that whatever connects them isn’t a happy thing.

Prompto is worried by his silence, and Noct feels guilty enough that he tries to pull himself out of his thoughts enough to talk to him. Prompto still notices how distracted he is, but there’s not much he can do about that.

They hole up in Noct’s old room at the Citadel, which is still mostly intact, although it lacks some of the personal items he took to his apartment when he moved out. A sympathetic Crownsguard offers to grab some of his gaming consoles and clothes from the apartment after they finish their investigation. They wont say it outright, but they're trying to find evidence of Ardyn breaking in. Noct absentmindedly wonders if Ardyn _ had _broken in. If he’d slipped in at night and petted Noct’s hair while he slept.

It seems like a moot point. Ardyn had no reason to break in; Noct would have opened the door for him if he asked.

In the meantime, he eats snacks with Prompto and gives half hearted answers to the questions Cor and the other Crownsguard ask him. He doesn’t really see the point of the questioning. After all, everything he knows about Ardyn is in his letters, which he’s sure will be heavily scrutinized.

He wants to have them back. Now that he understands what Ardyn meant about their soulbond, he wants to retrace the words with his fingertips and try to imagine what Ardyn felt when he wrote them. For now, he’ll have to do with closing his eyes and imagining each letter, relying on his memory to recreate Ardyn’s verbosity. Doing so requires a great deal of focus. Prompto isn’t too distracting, and Cor has already left. If no one else shows up, he’ll probably be able to get through all the letters by nightfall.

Of course, the universe has never been easy on him. His dad comes to visit later in the day, looking grave.

“Noctis,” he says, and Noct groans.

“Honestly, Dad, there’s nothing you can say to me that Ignis hasn’t said a thousand times already,” he says. He’s frustrated and confused, and that makes him snappy. Prompto looks like he’s not sure whether to panic more about the King standing right in front of them or the fact that Noct is backtalking him. “I’m a disappointment, I get it.”

“You are not a disappointment,” Regis says. “I am, however, concerned.”

“Yeah, you and everyone else,” Noct mutters. “Look, this is nothing. I can take care of myself.”

“Noctis,” Regis says haltingly. “You -”

“Can this wait until later?” Noct says. “I haven’t had lunch yet, and -”

“_Noctis Lucis Caelum_,” Regis says. Noct freezes. The ultimate weapon of an angry parent: calling their child by their full name. Regis doesn’t do it often, but when he does, Noct knows he’s in deep shit. “You have put yourself at risk repeatedly for the past two months. We are trying to _ help _ you, and you are intentionally impeding the investigation by refusing to answer our questions.”

Noct wilts under his father’s stern gaze. Prompto bites his lip and glances between them, like he’s not sure if he wants to stand by Noct or get the hell out of the way.

“I am very concerned by the contents of the letters this ‘Ardyn’ has been sending you,” Regis continues. His eyebrows knit in worry. “I’m scared for you, son. I know how lonely your position is, and I don’t blame you for the way this man has taken advantage of that. I also don’t blame you for wanting to keep secrets from me - from all of us. You are only eighteen, after all. What I need you to understand is that this Ardyn does not love you. He does not care about you. But _ we do_.”

“Right,” Noct says, although he’s sure Ardyn feels _ something _for him. He can’t bring himself to mask how tired he is.

Regis sighs heavily, and steps forward to envelope his son in a hug. It’s the first hug Noct has gotten from his father in over a year. He melts into it. “I love you, Noctis. So does Ignis, Gladio, Cor, and Prompto. We are all worried about you because we love you.”

“That’s right,” Prompto chimes in, looking up as Regis says his name. “We love you, Noct. Please trust us.”

Noct peeks out from where his head is buried in his father’s shoulder. He catches Prompto’s eye. His best friend smiles and comes over to hug both of them. The confusion fades away, and Noct can think clearly for the first time since the dream.

He knows what Ardyn is. And he can’t run from it.

He’s going to miss everyone. He can feel it in his heart, which is aching from being torn in so many directions. But he’s already made his choice. Even if he didn’t know it then, from the moment he decided to trust Ardyn and keep the first letter to himself he was locked on this path.

He closes his eyes and imagines the world finally free of darkness.

\---

When evening comes, he goes into his bathroom for a shower. It’s a hard earned victory, the result of hours of lying to his closest friends and family for the sake of convincing them that it was safe to leave him alone. He told them half truths about his loneliness, his desire to be with someone romantically, how Ardyn’s words seemed less creepy and more doting as time went on. Ignis had placed a hand on his shoulder and told him it was okay, he was sorry for yelling earlier, and Noct shouldn’t worry. They’d get him a therapist to help him work through this. It’d be okay.

Noct probably _ could _ do with a therapist’s help. He can see where Ardyn was manipulating him now. He can’t bring himself to be bitter about it, though. That's just what Ardyn _ is. _ Honestly, Noct is more thankful that he didn’t try to win his affections by impaling the heads of his enemies on pikes or something.

The final piece of his performance was a little lie about him being scared of Ardyn. They’d all melted at that one. Gladio had sworn he’d be at Noct’s side until the man was apprehended. Even now, he’s in Noct’s childhood bedroom, right outside the door as Noct turns on the shower.

Noct feels guilty about deceiving everyone, but it was necessary. None of them will believe the truth, and even if they did, they’d never let him go do what he needs to.

Gladio will wait until he’s done, which everyone knows could take as long as an hour given Noct’s habit of spacing out whenever he gets relaxed. That will give him plenty of time. The shower is running, Noct is fully dressed, and the bathroom window, chest level and narrow but still large enough for someone to squeeze through, is wide open.

Noct lets himself look down once. The ground is a long way down. He sucks in a deep breath. It’s not completely dark yet. With any luck, no one will notice him warping.

_ Follow the shadows. _

Noct hadn’t fully understood what Ardyn meant then, but he does now.

There are shadows writhing and twisting around the city streets. At first glance, they look like shadows from clouds, but the sky is clear today. They twist and groan over Insomnia, muting the lights of the city like a faint dusting of early morning mist. The effect is just subtle enough that no one would notice it unless they were looking.

Noct takes a deep breath and climbs out the window.

He falls for a few glorious moments. He has to stop himself from shouting with joy at the thrill of it. Then he draws out a dagger and warps across the skies. He follows the shadows to the Wall. He’s always had mixed feelings about it; it keeps Insomnia safe, but it’s also taking his dad away from him. It’s a symbol of all the burdens of kingship, burdens he will have to bear one day. Maybe. Given the circumstances, Noct won’t be surprised if Ardyn is waiting for him on the ground with a knife or a sword.

If he is, Noct will just have to talk him down. It won’t be hard. Ardyn feels it too, after all. 

He follows the shadows.

\---

Noct has been in the shower for a while now. Gladio frowns. He knocks on the door twice, and says “hey, Noct, you alright?”

He doesn’t get a response.

Maybe it’s an overreaction, but he kicks the door in. He finds the bathroom empty, with the shower spraying water uselessly against the tub and the window wide open.

Gladio runs to it and looks out. He can’t see Noct. He feels like the worst shield in Lucian history.

He practically sprints back to the main room, where his father, the King, Ignis, and a set of guards are all talking quietly, waiting for Noct to get done with his shower so they can comfort him some more.

“Noct ran,” Gladio spits, feeling stupid and betrayed and panicked all at once.

Insomnia is immediately put on high alert, a curfew is issued, and the Crownsguard is dispatched into the city to find the missing prince. Gladio swears to himself that he’ll kick Ardyn’s head in the moment he meets him.

\---

Ardyn glances back at Lucis and laughs. “It appears they’ve noticed your departure.”

Noct turns around in the passenger seat. There are helicopters flying around Insomnia, looking like little bugs against the black night sky, with search lights shining down into the city. “Are you sure they won't be able to figure out where we went?”

“My illusions are quite powerful,” Ardyn says. He takes a hand off the wheel to smooth over Noct’s arm. “I assure you, it is highly unlikely they’ll even realize we’ve left the city.”

Noct nods. It had been odd, driving through the streets in Ardyn’s open top car and getting through security at the Wall’s only exit with nary a glance in his direction. The false passports Ardyn had made for them were also impressive. To Noct, they simply look like wallets with blank paper in them, but he supposes the guards must’ve seen something different.

Ardyn looks at him longingly. His lips curl into a smirk. “Oh, my love. How I have waited for this day.”

Noct shivers. The feeling is back. He can hear the silky hatred in Ardyn’s voice, but it’s not the only thing that’s there. “Keep your eyes on the road, old man. We’ve still got a ways to go.”

Ardyn chuckles. “Yes, Your Majesty,” he drawls. Noct hits his shoulder playfully. They both relax into their seats.

Noct looks up at the starry sky and hums to himself. “So, you’re the Accursed.”

Ardyn seems taken aback for a moment, like he hadn’t expected Noct to notice. Noct grins. Ardyn recovers admirably. “What tipped you off, the black blood dripping from my mouth, or the unholy magic I possess?”

“Neither,” Noct says. "Guess I just knew.”

They sit in silence for a while longer. Noct thinks back to when he was eight years old in Tenebrae, when Luna told him all the little details about his destiny. In his childish innocence, he'd accepted her words easily. As he got older, he began to resent them. He had more pressure on him than any other prince in Lucis’s history, and for what? Because some rock told the Oracle he was supposed to kill a monster that’s been terrorizing the world for two millennia now? It always struck him as insane.

He looks over at Ardyn. He seems a man out of time, with nothing behind him and nothing ahead of him. Like he only exists moment to moment. Noct always thought he was lonely, but he can’t even imagine the all consuming void that must exist where Ardyn’s heart used to be.

He leans over and pries Ardyn’s hand off the wheel. He laces their fingers together and brings their hands up to his mouth, where he presses soft kisses against Ardyn’s knuckles.

“Mm,” Ardyn hums. “I’m going to enjoy you, you know.”

Noct brings their hands to his cheek, so Ardyn’s skin is rubbing against his own. “Me, too.”

\---

They go to Niflheim. On the way there, Noct asks questions, and Ardyn answers them. They talk about a lot of things: Ardyn’s position as the Imperial Chancellor, his future plans for Eos, his imprisonment in Angelgard. After he tells Noct about Somnus and Aera, he pauses and shakes his head, like he’d said more than he meant to. He stays quiet for a long time after that. Noct lets him rest.

Ardyn tells Noct that when they arrive at Gralea, they will assassinate the Emperor, and with the military's support they will gain full control over Niflheim. Noct never imagined he'd ascend his throne like this, but he supposes that's all the same in history's eyes. At least this crown won't demand his father's death as payment.

When they cross the border, they're met by a group of soldiers. Commodore Aranea greets them. Ravus stands nearby, glowering at Noct. Neither of them look particularly happy to see Ardyn, despite their apparent loyalty.

Aranea regards Noct carefully, and pulls him aside later to ask him if he's feeling alright.

"I'm fine," Noct says, immediately knowing what she's _ really _asking. "I’m not just gonna let Ardyn do whatever he wants. There's no need to worry."

She gives him a friendly slap on the back. “Sounds good to me. Someone needs to watch that guy. He’s an odd one, but he’s better than the Emperor. I’m telling you, the man’s going senile.”

“Doesn’t sound like he has much power, if his entire military’s betraying him,” Noct says.

“Not really. Everyone’s just been waiting for Izunia to assassinate him and get it over with.” Aranea yawns. “So. Want dinner? We’ve got field rations.”

As it turns out, killing the Emperor is, in fact, as easy as Aranea said it would be. His blood stains the throne where it trickles down from the ethereal sword embedded in his heart. The Crystal hasn't denied either of them their Armigers yet, but Ardyn warns him it may rescind Noct's birthright. Noct asks if they'll both lose their power.

"Bahamut," Ardyn tells him, as he places the crown on Noct's head, "cannot tear my power away from me. I have held it for far too long."

Noct nods. He doesn't know whether that's a good thing or not. Ardyn is already so powerful, with the Scourge racing through his veins. The Armiger is just another weapon in his arsenal. It’s a good thing Noct won’t have to fight him.

They return to Insomnia. News of Iedolas’s death and Noct’s crowning has already reached the city. Noct frowns at the news feeds on his phone, all of them reporting rumors of a secret correspondence between the prince and the Imperial Chancellor. They aren’t wrong, but they all imply that Noct has either completely betrayed his country or that Ardyn has him completely under his control. He supposes that’s what he deserves, for running off with Ardyn instead of staying in the city and trying to explain things to his dad.

They are welcomed home with flashing cameras and protest signs. Everyone expects Noct to murder his own father. They expect tomorrow's newspapers to speak of regicide and the crowning of a new king. Ardyn has been licking his lips all day, only pausing when Noct stands on his toes to kiss him.

They all expect him to fail as the King of Light.

Noct tries to walk tall as they approach the Citadel.

\---

"Hi, Dad," Noct says as he and Ardyn enter the throne room. Ardyn smiles cruelly and sweeps into a bow. When he straightens out, Noct takes his hand to keep him from summoning a sword.

"Noctis." Regis looks haggard. Noct feels guilty again, but it's a fleeting pain. Everything will be better after this. "I expect you've come for the throne."

"No," Noct says. Ardyn looks like he’s about to say something, but Noct kisses him quickly and he calms down. "I'm not going to _ kill _ you, Dad. Or anyone. I'm here to offer peace terms."

"Peace," Regis says, looking between him and Ardyn.

Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto are standing up with the council members. Gladio and Ignis are wearing Crownsguard uniforms. They must have completed their training while Noct was gone, or at least been granted temporary positions. Noct waves to them. Prompto tentatively waves back.

"I'm not going to keep waging war against my home,” he says. “I have a treaty already drawn up with my signature on it." He pulls the document out of his breast pocket and holds it out. Cor, who's been standing watch until now, comes to take it. He gives Noct a guarded look before taking the paper up to the King. Regis looks over it with narrowed eyes. Noct continues. "Lucis will keep all of its current territory, and will share control of conquered regions with Niflheim. The Crystal will remain here."

"Noct," Ardyn hisses.

He rubs his thumb over Ardyn's palm. "I'm not betraying you," he murmurs. Ardyn stills. He probably thinks this is part of some cruel plan to get his father to lower his guard before Noct kills him. He'd be wrong.

Regis's guard _ does _fall, almost imperceptibly. "I require an explanation for this, son."

"You know, don't you? Ardyn is the Accursed, and I'm the King of Light." A murmur rises among the council members. Noct's mouth quirks up into a small smile. "We were made for each other."

"That doesn't explain this," Regis says, staring hard at Ardyn, looking for any sign of a threat.

"Of course it does," Noct says. He steps forward, bringing Ardyn with him. He’s been remarkably quiet the past week, watching Noct blossom into his new role of Emperor. It won’t take much for Noct to keep him quiet just a little while longer. "It explains everything. I'm not going to kill my soulmate for some stupid prophecy."

Ardyn bristles again. Noct can tell he's furious, but he isn't going to bring up the reason _ why _ in front of all these people. Noct keeps talking. "The duty of the True King is to purge Eos of its darkness. I don't have to kill Ardyn to do that. What I _ do _have to do is end this senseless violence."

"I see," Regis says. He considers Noct carefully. He clearly still believes Noct is under Ardyn's control, which is annoying, but he guesses that’s something that can only be fixed with time. "The council and I will need time to review this treaty. In the meantime, you and the Imperial Chancellor are welcome to stay. I'll have a set of rooms prepared for him."

"He can stay in my room," Noct says. Regis looks like he expected that answer, but isn't happy about it. Ignis and Gladio glare at Ardyn from their place next to Clarus. Prompto regards them thoughtfully. Noct bows and takes his leave, pulling Ardyn along with him.

\---

"_What do you mean you're not going to kill me_," Ardyn hisses as soon as they shut the door to Noct's room.

Noct shrugs off his jacket and throws it over the couch. "If you wanted me to kill you, you really shouldn't have gotten me to fall in love with you."

Ardyn growls. His skin cracks and pales, and black blood oozes from his eyes. "Noct."

"What was your plan, exactly?" Noct asks. "Let me guess. You wanted me - the descendant of the man who ruined your life - to suffer, so you swept me off my feet with the intent of making me so pliant I'd one day obey your heartbreaking order to kill you." He smiles fondly. "Sorry, but no. That's not happening."

"You little brat," Ardyn says dangerously. "I will destroy everything you hold dear."

"No, you won't." Noct steps up to Ardyn and wraps his arms around his neck. Ardyn relaxes into his hold despite his obvious discomfort at doing so. "You love me."

"My dear, were you really fooled by those meaningless platitudes?" Ardyn's lips, black with blood, curl into a smirk. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but -"

"Shut up. You can’t deny your own feelings. You _ love _me." Noct sighs, pressing his face into Ardyn's jacket. He smells surprisingly pleasant, sweet like overripe fruit or maybe even death. It’s better than the cologne ever was. "We're soulmates."

"We are not," Ardyn protests. He brings his arms up around Noct and pulls him close. "I lied, you stupid, useless _ brat_."

"You love me," Noct says again. He still hasn’t gotten tired of the words. "You might not have felt it at first, but there was always something there. The Six made me for you, and you for me." He presses a kiss into the fabric of Ardyn's shirt. "I mean, yeah, technically they made me to kill you, but there was always the chance we'd fit together like this."

“Absolutely not. I -”

“Ardyn,” Noct says gently, taking the Accursed’s face in his hands. “I know it’s hard. You’ve suffered for so long, you’ve spent _ so long _ in the dark, feeling nothing but hate and despair. We’re bonded whether you like it or not, and I’m giving you a choice: you can keep wallowing in self pity, or you can let me bring you back into the light. You can let me _ help you. _ Please.”

Ardyn stands very still. The next time he speaks, his voice is low. "How do you expect to purge your star of its scourge without killing me?"

It’s enough of an answer to satisfy Noct, at least for now. He looks up at Ardyn and grins devilishly. "I have to purify your darkness with my light. Seems easy enough."

"Easy," Ardyn says dryly. He traces a clawed hand down Noct's cheek. "What am I to do with you."

Noct presses a small kiss to the tip of his nose, which is as far as he can reach even on his toes. "You could start by taking me to dinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact this was supposed to be full on omen au but then noct just decided he still wanted to be a good guy i guess  
edit 1/6/2020: this fic now has a companion fic, the fall, which is in ardyn's pov. it's basically the events of the story but from ardyn's perspective. check it out if you like :)


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